Family Ties
by Laws of Chaos
Summary: Vin screamed desperately as the backlash from the explosion hit his hiding place outside the warehouse. Everything was drowned out in the god awful roar emanating from the building where his entire team had been just moments before. NOT A DEATHFIC!
1. Chapter 1

**Family Ties**

A/N- As always, none of the characters belong to me, I'm just playing in the sandbox with them. Thanks to MOG for creating the ATF AU. Also, HUGE thanks to Retirw, she's been fantastic in getting me back on track when I get stuck! Another thanks to Pookwana for some awesome plot bunnies to try out! This is a slight crossover with CSI: Miami and The Sentinel, but you don't really need to have any prior knowledge to read this; it focuses on the Magnificent Seven characters. My apologies for any errors in airport security; I've never actually had to check a fire arm before, so I have NO idea how it works. THIS IS NOT A DEATHFIC!!! I PROMISE!! Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

**Miami Dade Police Department**

**March 27****th****, 2003 **

Silently, Vin ghosted into the darkened room and slipped behind his desk. He leaned down to rest his weary head on the smooth surface; the cool wood easing his over warm forehead. As he closed his eyes in the still room, Vin's mind slowly wandered where he had forbidden it to go. The near constant surveillance of the suspect for the past month had weakened his carefully constructed barriers. Wearily, Vin remembered a black-dressed terror smirking after a successful bust, a large gentle man reminding him that there was still some good left in the world, a black man threatening to shoot his sorry ass if he didn't let him clean those cuts. _God, _Vin thought, _Nathan would be shoutin' him up a right proper storm iffen he could see me now. _Hearing the others on the team coming, Vin moaned silently as he slipped on a black jacket with the CSI symbol emblazoned on the back to hide the knife wound the suspect had given him.

Without Chris and the others, touch, even the doctor's, was out of the question. He didn't think his team had known just how important they were to him. He hadn't known either. Now that he was alone, all the old defensive responses had come roaring back. Vin could count on one hand the number of times he'd spoken more than what was required since he'd come here, even though this new team found the silence vaguely disturbing. For the same reason, he still tried to hide his reactions as much as possible, but Vin couldn't stop the slight flinch anytime somebody so much as brushed up against him. Thank God the team had finally stopped trying to touch him in greeting.

A moment later, the fluorescent lights switched on, making Vin's already pounding head ache as Horatio Caine, Calleigh Duquesne, and Eric Delko walked into the room. They'd taken the murder suspect into custody after a well timed call from Vin had managed to pull them out of a budget meeting with the higher-ups. Vin managed to escape it because he was technically needed in the field. Although the others were Crime Scene Investigators, Vin had been put on the team two months ago to "help with the fieldwork." According to Horatio's superiors theorder had come from high up. So high up, even _they _didn't know who had sent it.

Understandably, the group had been reluctant to accept Vin onto the team. Horatio, Calleigh, and Eric had been expecting a spoiled beach bum coasting on his father's influence. They were surprised, to say the least, when the long-haired Texan had shown up in their lab wearing faded jeans, cowboy boots, a worn flannel shirt, and more armory than any of their suspects.

The first time Horatio had seen Vin on the shooting range qualifying for his weapons, he'd realized that Tanner had definitely had one hell of a lot of training. And from some of his quirks, they'd obviously been put to use somewhere. For now, Horatio and his team had stopped trying to touch him in any way, but they still made a point to ask questions that couldn't be answered with a simple yes or no. The quiet man intrigued them. No one had given up on him yet.

Pulling up short at the sight of the sharpshooter already sitting at his desk, _How the hell did he beat us here? I never even saw him leave. _Horatio stopped for a moment; pain lines creased Vin's forehead. He almost started forward to check on Tanner and see if it was a migraine, but backed off quickly as Vin's body tensed the moment Horatio stepped closer. "Tanner." His voice was soft in deference to the headache. "You did a good job with the surveillance."

Vin looked up, eyes carefully shielded, and nodded in thanks.

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_Shit! This damned cut won' stop bleedin'. I'se gotta find me some place ta bandage it. _

Making his decision, Vin cleared his throat, startling the team who were all used to his absolute silence. His voice was raspy and hoarse from the hours in the sun. "Would y'all mind iffen I come back in 'bout an hour ta finish writin' mah report?"

Horatio looked at him with calculating eyes and seemed to note something on Vin's right arm. "Were you injured?"

"I'se fine."

Horatio's eyes pinned him down. After a moment, Horatio relented and agreed. "One hour."

With a nod of thanks, Vin shut down his computer and slipped silently out of the room.

When he was gone, Calleigh looked at Horatio questioningly. "What was that all about?"

"Our young friend wasn't telling the truth a moment ago." He walked over Vin's desk and bent down to examine a dark spot of blood no one had noticed while Vin was sitting down. "He's lying, and I want to know why."

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Exactly fifty nine minutes later, Vin walked back into the office and turned on his computer, purposely ignoring the fact that the entire team was leaning against a wall near his desk.

"How's your arm?"

Vin glanced at Eric, his eyes showing nothing. _Damn it… This is why I always hate workin' wit' detectives. _

The quiet sharpshooter turned to look at the three people standing in front of him. As hard as he searched, he couldn't find any alternative motives. _They'se never gonna be family, but I might as well not make 'em think I hate 'em._ "It's fine. I stitched it up whilst I'se gone." Instantly, Vin mentally cringed at his accidentally revealing that he hadn't been to the hospital.

Horatio blinked in consternation. _Why would Vin stitch up his own wounds rather than go to a doctor? _"Would you allow us to take a look at your work?"

_Damn! Cain't tell 'em no, or they'll jist drag mah ass off to a doctor. Iffen I act like it ain't no big deal, maybe they'se won't say nothin'. Least tha scars on mah arms ain't nearly sa bad as tha rest of 'em._ Vin slowly took off his black CSI jacket. The white bandages on his arm contrasted starkly with the black T-shirt revealed underneath the jacket. He took off the bandages and allowed the team to look at the neat row of 13 stitches in his bicep.

They all froze, saddened. Vin's arms were a tracery of thin, white scars from top to bottom. A heavy band of scar tissue circled both wrists.

_Tortured,_ Calleigh realized. _No wonder he hates to be touched._ Looking at Vin, she didn't say a word. All three of them recognized the expression he wore. He did **not **want them to so much as mention the scars.

Calleigh tried to fill the awkward silence. "Those stitches are incredible. I've seen nurses do worse." Her brows rose involuntarily. _This isn't the first time he's done this. _

"Tha medic on mah team taught me. Said iffen I'se gonna go 'n git mah fool self cut up ever' damn month, than I was gonna have ta learn how ta fix mah ownself."

Crystal blue eyes turned thoughtful. This was the first time he had ever heard Vin speak about his life before Miami. Horatio decided to try fishing for information. To quote Winston Churchill, Vin was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. "What was his name?"

There was a moment of contemplative silence as Vin decided on how much he trusted this team, noting that they still hadn't said anything about the scars. Finally he decided a little bit of information couldn't hurt. "…His name was Nathan." The room was quiet as the others digested this new piece of Vin's life, including his use of past tense.

Vin bowed his head in grief. _This is why I'se tryin' not ta 'member them at work! I gotta git outta here. _

When Vin's raspy voice pierced the quiet, the others weren't surprised by the quiet pronouncement. "I'se going ta tha shootin' range." And without another word, Vin walked out the door for the second time that day.

Calleigh stared as the retreating back. "He only goes to the shooting range _here_ when he's angry. I believe the exact words were our shooting range was 'a useless piece a junk tha's more likely ta send ya the damn bullets back wit a frensic 'nalysis then actu'ly be any good fer shootin'"

Eric looked at her with brows raised. "He said what?"

Calleigh looked embarrassed "O.K, that may have been a paraphrase."

Horatio just shook his head in amusement, trying to forget the sight of Vin's scars. "We'll get answers sooner or later. Right now, all of you have reports to work on."

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**Down on the firing range**

The paper targets felt the brunt of Vin's anger as he emptied clip after clip into the still paper forms. Other CSIs watched in awe at the speed and accuracy Vin was showing, but he didn't even seem to know they were there.

Thoughts and memories tumbled through Vin's head, flying around and refusing to give him any peace. He could see each and every frame of that night as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, and to him, it might as well have happened last night

_How tha hell did Chris do it?! _Vin shouted silently._How did he keep from shooting everbody after Sara and Adam's death?_

His team, his brothers were all dead! He wanted nothing more than for that paper target to be their killer. But unfortunately, even that had been stolen from him. Their killer had committed suicide when he realized that one of the seven was still alive. He'd thought they were all in the warehouse. And, honest to God, Vin wished he had been. At least then he wouldn't have to live with all their deaths. But, God damn it! The movie wouldn't stop! Every single frame of that night was crystal clear and close up in that frame by frame play. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. Whenever Vin dared to sleep, his dreams were filled with turbulent images and sounds. But above it all, the scent of scorched flesh always lingered.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- As always, none of the characters belong to me, I'm just playing in the sandbox with them. Thanks to MOG for creating the ATF AU. Also, HUGE thanks to Retirw, she's been fantastic in getting me back on track when I get stuck! Another thanks to Pookwana for some awesome plot bunnies to try out! This is a slight crossover with CSI: Miami and The Sentinel, but you don't really need to have any prior knowledge to read this; it focuses on the Magnificent Seven characters. My apologies for any errors in airport security; I've never actually had to check a fire arm before, so I have NO idea how it works. THIS IS NOT A DEATHFIC!!! I PROMISE!! Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

**Two Months Ago**

**Denver, Colorado **

**January 18****th**

"NO!" Vin screamed desperately as the backlash from the explosion hit his hiding place outside the warehouse. Everything was drowned out in the god awful roar emanating from the building where his entire team had been just moments before. Sliding down from the roof so fast he was in freefall, Vin was out of the safety harness before he hit the ground.

Throwing aside his rifle, he tore over to the building as flames shot out of the windows. _God, I can't lose Chris! No! _An inhuman cry erupted from his throat as hands grabbed at him, pulling him back from the deadly heat.

Ryan Kelly, the leader of Team Eight, shouted for help as he and his men attempted to subdue Tanner.

"Let go!" Vin shouted, "I has ta get in there! Has ta get 'em out!" Fists and elbows flew as Vin madly tried to escape their protection.

Even with four more agents from Team Three joining in, they weren't a match for Vin's desperate struggle. "Someone has to knock him out!" The leader of Team 3 cried breathlessly. Finally, a full four minutes later, Kelly landed a swift right hook to Vin's jaw and he was laid out flat. Panting, the men tried to regain their breath as they stared in unmasked pity at Vin. His whole team had been right in the heart of that explosion. Not even the Magnificent Seven could have survived that.

"I'll stay with him," Kelly said softly. "When he wakes up, he isn't going to want an audience."

The others nodded quietly. "We'll go help secure the area."

The leader of Team Three lingered behind for a moment. "God, Kelly. Look at him; he can't be more than twenty two years old…"

The silence was deafening and neither leader moved for a long time.

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Smoke and burned flesh. The smell permeated his mind and almost made him gag, but Vin couldn't figure out why he smelled it, he wasn't…there anymore… Oh God, the explosion! "Chris!" He screamed, rolling to his feet. Unfortunately, his stomach protested and he gasped and heaved, waiting for the shaking to stop before trying that again. His anguished eyes found the remnants of the building where the bust had gone down, smoke still curling up from the mounds of ashes. Nothing was left.

"Oh God…" The absolute agony in Vin's voice shook Kelly. There was no hope, no life, just an unbearable emptiness, completely at odds with the sharpshooter's usual attitude. Gently, Kelly laid a hand on Vin's shoulder in a meager attempt at comfort. His heart broke for Vin when the man violently flinched away, unspeaking.

"Is there someone I can call for you?" It was a meaningless gesture and Kelly knew it. The other half of Vin's soul had died in that fire. Kelly had never truly understood what dead man walking had meant until now.

Vin didn't take his eyes off the space where the building had once stood, just slid to the ground, sitting Indian style in the rubble, unblinking and unmoving. "Jist leave me alone," Vin's hoarse whisper almost went unheard. Bowing his head in grief, Kelly moved back to his men. The ATF had lost seven good agents today, not just the six men that had died in the explosion.

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**Denver Morgue**

**January 20****th****, 2003**

The lean sharpshooter stood stiffly at parade rest in front of the technician as he identified the charred guns and badges on the table. Vin knew he looked terrifying from the way everybody was staring at him, yet, for some reason, he didn't care. Long ago, in black ops, he'd taught himself how to numb his body from pain, both physical and emotional, but he'd _never _had to distance himself this much to block anything out.

Meticulously, Vin formed iron-clad barriers around his emotions. Emotions were weak. Emotions left you vulnerable, and right now, emotions were something to avoid at all costs. He had to leave. Had to go somewhere where nothing would remind him of his fallen brothers… He would never be able to forget or find another family like the one he had just lost, but he _had_ to leave. Chris and the others had kept him from running, but now that they were gone, there was nothing left.

Vin stalked out of the morgue, his stony countenance preventing even Travis from following.

Once he made the decision, the act itself was easier than he remembered. Fingers flew over his cell pone, dialing a sequence memorized years ago.

"Eagle." The voice was the same as always; the Captain didn't even seem surprised that he'd called this particular number after all this time. Vin snorted coldly in his head, the Captain always knew everything.

"Capt'n." No greetings were necessary. This number wasn't for pleasantries.

Knowing the purpose of this call, the Captain spoke, "Any particular requests?"

_That's one thing I'se always liked 'bout the Capt'n. _Vin thought, oddly disconnected from the situation. _He's straight forward, no false condolences 'bout men he never knew_. Vin was perfectly aware the Captain cared about him and would do everything he could for him, but he knew that right now, Vin didn't want to be comforted. That was for later, when he could afford to let down his guard. Shaking off the thoughts, Vin spoke to the Captain. "I'se wantin' ta keep mah own name. Jist don't want ta be found by anyone here. Don't rightly care where's ya put me, but I don't want no re'minders of mah team."

"It'll be ready in three hours, Falcon. You know what to do." Sadly enough, he did. Every one in Black Ops had disappeared enough times to know the drill.

Vin absentmindedly hung up his cell phone as the shrill dial tone permeated his thoughts. It was easier than he'd thought it would be to leave everything behind. In three hours, he'd be at the airport boarding a plane to his new life. He wondered where the Captain would send him. Somewhere that didn't look a thing like Denver …

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**Miami Dade Police Station**

**April 13****th****, 2003 **

Quietly finishing up a report on a recent arrest, Horatio was surprised by a knock on the entrance of the office area. He, Calleigh, and Eric looked up at the interruption. Standing in the door, a man dressed in fatigue pants and a black T-shirt stood, resting against the doorframe. Easily six feet tall, the man had cold, ice-blue eyes, and the lack of identification, dog tags or other wise, screamed black ops.

"I'm looking for Vin Tanner." His voice was soft and carefully emotionless.

Immediately, Horatio's hackles went up. This couldn't be good. "What do you want with him?"

The frigid eyes slowly turned to rest on him as Horatio noticed what made the eyes so intense. It wasn't how the eyes blocked any emotion, but there actually _wasn't _any emotion. Suppressing shivers, Horatio refused to back down as the man stared at him. _There's no way in hell I'm telling him where Vin is. That boy doesn't need the military screwing around with him on top of whatever happened before we met him. _

"What I want with Tanner is none of your concern, Lieutenant Caine."

Before Horatio could reply, the door of the outer office opened and Vin stepped through. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he caught sight of the imposing visitor.

"Capt'n Ellison?" The team stared in astonishment as Vin smiled at the intruder. Tanner didn't smile. He just…didn't.

"You look like shit, Runt."

"Coming from you, that might be a compliment." Vin didn't take any offense at the unusual greeting and walked over to join the group.

The Captain studied him with a narrowed eye. "Runt, how much do you weigh now?"

Tanner ducked his head and mumbled something that Horatio couldn't quite make out. But apparently, the Captain could.

"Damn it, Tanner! You're over twenty pounds underweight."

_Twenty pounds! Shit, I knew he was skinny, but not __**that **__skinny._

Ellison took a small bottle out of his pocket and handed it to Vin. "Drink."

Vin looked at the milky white substance in disgust. "What in hell is this?"

"It's pure lipids. Doc made you a special batch when I called. We figured you wouldn't take it the normal way unless I sat on you, and I really didn't want to make that bad of a first impression to your team."

Vin snorted. "I'se sure as hell not puttin' in no damn I.V, and I ain't drinkin' that crap, neither. I already told yah, I'se fine!"

The captain glared at Tanner and Horatio, Calleigh, and Eric gulped and took a step back. Tanner didn't even seem affected by it in the least. "Said I ain't drinkin' this crap."

"Falcon," the voice was deadly quiet. "You **will **drink that."

Vin looked square at the Captain and saw that he was deadly serious. Locking eyes with Ellison, he drained the bottle and threw it over his shoulder and into the trash.

"Happy?" he asked sarcastically.

"Actually, yes. Have you looked at yourself lately, Slick?" The voice was gentle, surprising the team. "Come on, I don't think your lieutenant would mind me taking you to an early lunch."

Horatio cut in. "You're right, I wouldn't. Go to lunch Tanner. I don't want to see your face for at least two hours."

Horatio thoughtfully watched them go, noting how Ellison carefully refrained from touching Vin, not coming anywhere near his personal space. _He knows what it's like, _Horatio thought as realization of what must have happened to Tanner before he came here flooded him. _He lost his team. That's why he said his name __**was **__Nathan. They're dead._ He paused for a moment._ Tanner's a good man, but I still pity the fool that killed his friends. There's no way he's still alive. _

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**Denver, Colorado**

**Federal Building**

The door to the offices of ATF Team Seven crashed open and a very much alive Chris Larabee strode into the room.The desks had been moved into a giant circle, and coffee cups and computer printouts littered all the available surfaces. JD's desk was covered in computer equipment specialized for hacking. Between Chris and Buck, half of the armed forces were on the lookout for Vin. Markers had been called in and feelers had been put out, yet there was still no information.

JD looked up at Chris. "There's no way Vin did this. It's like he doesn't even exist anymore! Whoever's hiding Vin is good; their firewalls are absolutely impenetrable. They're harder to crack than the Pentagon! Umm... Not that I would know anything about that. . ."

Managing to crack a smile at JD's hurried cover-up, Josiah's voice rumbled, "God will lead us to him, brothers. He's not cruel enough to let Vin continue believing we're dead."

At the reminder of the hell Vin must be in, all six of them snarled deep in their throats. Swiss cheese had been the nicest phrase to describe their captor once they killed him. Travis had scolded them for their . . . enthusiasm.

As fate would have it, two minutes before the explosion, the leader of a rival drug cartel had smuggled them out of the warehouse and attempted to drug them into telling him what the ATF knew about his business. Unfortunately for him, it turns out his resident mad scientist was naïve and believed Team Seven when they said that they were to scared to escape, and no, thank you, but those bonds weren't necessary.

After one look at Team Seven's faces, Travis had gulped and tried to calm them down before breaking the news, but they weren't having any of it. Finally, he had been forced to tell them that as soon as Vin had identified his team's charred badges and weapons, the quiet sharpshooter had disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Family Ties**

A/N- As always, none of the characters belong to me, I'm just playing in the sandbox with them. Thanks to MOG for creating the ATF AU. Also, HUGE thanks to Retirw, she's been fantastic in getting me back on track when I get stuck! Another thanks to Pookwana for some awesome plot bunnies to try out! This is a slight crossover with CSI: Miami and The Sentinel, but you don't really need to have any prior knowledge to read this; it focuses on the Magnificent Seven characters. My apologies for any errors in airport security; I've never actually had to check a fire arm before, so I have NO idea how it works. THIS IS NOT A DEATHFIC!!! I PROMISE!! Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me.

**Miami, Colorado**

**Miami Dade Police Station**

**May 1st**

**11:14 am**

Justin Casey, the junior member of Team 8, dove through the doorway of the shooting range and into the hall, willing his heart to stop pounding. _Holy shit, that was Vin Tanner! _Justin tried to act nonchalant as a group of CSIs passed by and he debated what he should do. _If only Kelly was here! He'd know. _

For God's sakes, he couldn't just walk up and tell Vin that Team Seven had pulled a Lazarus and scared the hell out of everyone when they stalked into their own memorial service. They'd looked around for a moment, completely ignoring the various astonished agents, and Chris had growled, literally growled, where the hell was Vin.

Seeing his brother approaching the shooting range, Justin flagged him down. He was here visiting, not on official business, so he wasn't wearing ATF insignia, thank God. If Vin had seen it…

Trying to sound nonchalant, Justin asked his brother, "Who's that?" He pointed through the doorway of the range at Tanner, heart beating rapidly and trying not to make it too obvious that he was desperately making sure Tanner couldn't see him. Judging by the look his brother gave him, he didn't succeed.

"That's Vin Tanner. He transferred here about four months ago to Lt. Horatio's team. It's kind of odd actually, he's not a CSI, he just does all the fieldwork, like surveillance and stuff. No one knows what happened to him before he came here, but he won't allow anyone to touch him. Ever. He stitches up his own cuts and everything. He doesn't talk either. I've only heard him say something once, and that was to shout out a warning that there was an officer down. I can't begin to tell you all of the speculation about what he was before he came to Miami."

Justin's voice was soft and reflective as he absorbed the information. "He was, is, a sharpshooter."

Jason, his brother, choked. "You know him?!"

Justin's eyes didn't leave Vin's back. "Sort of." There was a pause and suddenly, Justin's eyes widened and he whirled on his brother. "You **can't **tell him I was here! He thinks his entire team is dead! The warehouse they were in blew up, but nobody knew they weren't in it. Vin disappeared as soon as he identified their badges and weapons, and nobody's been able to find him since. All the files are so encrypted that even **Dunne **can't find him! He'll run if he knows anybody from Denver knows he's here. **Promise **me you won't tell him!"

"Justin, calm down. I won't tell him. My God, I can't even imagine what losing your whole team must be like."

"They weren't just his team, Jason. They were his brothers…"

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**Denver Federal Building**

**May 1****st**

**3:12 pm**

"Kelly!" Agent Justin Casey practically flew in the door to the office. Team Eight gathered around him in confusion as he bent over, trying to catch his breath.

"Casey, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be on vacation for another two days."

"I got an earlier flight." Casey was still breathing hard. Finally, in between pants, he managed to get it out, "Vin. I saw Vin."

The silence in the bullpen was deafening. Kelly's eyes were wide as he spoke. "You saw Tanner?"

Casey nodded repeatedly. "I was down in Miami visiting my brother, and he works at the Miami Dade Police station. He was in a meeting, so I went down to the shooting range to see what it looked like. Everyone was standing in a circle behind this one person, so I went to see what the heck was going on. A new gun testing, maybe? But anyways, so I went to look and it was Vin! He was shooting the _crap _out of the paper targets and had this kill-you-dead-Larabee look on his face. I asked my brother about him and he said Vin transferred in about four months ago."

Kelly's eyes widened. "Did he see you?" The question was terse as he interrupted Casey's breathless blabbering.

"No. I mean, I knew I couldn't just up and tell him out of nowhere that the others are alive, and if I spooked him, he'd run."

Kelly stared at the newest member of the team in surprise. _When did he get that smart? _"Good job. Let me go talk to Chris." _Kid might make an agent after all._

"Ryan, wait!" The use of his first name told Kelly this was something important. "He's in bad shape." Justin paused as if debating how much to tell him. Finally, he said quietly, "I've never seen him look like . . . that."

Kelly absorbed that for a moment. "I'll tell Chris. He'll know what to do."

"It's been nice knowing you!" His team joked, trying to lighten the mood as he walked out the door and headed to the proverbial lion's den. Kelly gulped. Team Seven had been a bit…testy…lately. Oh God, maybe he should call the Miami Dade Police Station to warn them…

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**Airplane Somewhere Between Denver and Miami**

**May 1****st**

**3:51 pm**

The flight attendant looked at the six men in her area and swallowed several times before walking over to them with the beverage cart. The slim blond man dressed in solid midnight black let his piercing green eyes roam the cabin, eventually falling on her.

"Would you like anything to drink, sir?"

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed her for a moment. "No."

Gulping, she turned to the next person, completely unaware of the man's reason for not drinking. The only reason he wasn't downing a shot of whiskey was because he didn't want his aim to be off if he had a chance to shoot somebody.

The man with a mustache didn't even bother to look at her when she asked him, and his answer was as short and concise as the others. "No."

Swallowing nervously, she turned to the next pair of seats which contained two of the largest men she'd ever seen. The black man was mumbling to himself, and when she leaned closer, she looked at him oddly until the presence of the other man, holding a rosary and looking more dangerous than any man should be allowed, made her think twice. The man was muttering about surgical techniques and scruffy, god damned Texans that didn't listen to anyone. Maybe she should alert the other attendants not to come near this area…

The last pair was a younger looking man, typing furiously on a laptop, and another man dressed in what she guessed was at least a two thousand dollar suit. When she asked if they wanted anything, the well-dressed man just looked at her then went back to reading over the other man's shoulder. Turning away, she shakily continued her pathway down the aisle, thanking whatever deities happened to be listening that she didn't live in Miami.


	4. Chapter 4

**Miami Dade**

**May 1****st**

**6:25 pm**

Ryan Wolfe walked into the bullpen, solemn eyes seeking out Horatio. "Guys, you need to hear this."

Bewildered, Horatio, Eric, Calleigh, and Vin walked over to him. "What's going on?"

Wolfe looked at them. "Security's in absolute _shambles_. About an ten minutes ago, six ATF agents stormed in like they were the damned hounds of hell and demanded that they see their agent. One of the uniforms told them there weren't any ATF agents here, and their leader just leaned over the desk and snarled at the cop. 'Well then, you'd better find one.' The poor guard just about peed in his pants. I mean, this guy's dressed in solid black and has the most piercing green eyes I've ever seen, and he's standing there pointing a gun at the guy. Right now, the agents are in an interrogation room, waiting for confirmation of who they are from the Denver ATF offices."

Wolfe broke off at a strange choking noise from Vin. He, Horatio, Calleigh, and Eric turned around to look at him.

Immediately, Horatio tried to think about what they had said that could have caused this. Vin had backed up against a wall and was plastered against it, shaking and eyes wide.

His hoarse, raspy whisper came out half choked and strangled sounding in the silent room, "What's they's names?"

Wolfe tried to calm Vin down, worried at his sudden reaction. "I'm not sure what their names are. I'd recognize them if I heard one, though," he soothed.

Tanner finally managed to stutter out a name, "Chris. Chris Larabee. He one of 'em?"

Now it was Wolfe's turn to be surprised. "Yeah, he is. How'd you know?"

He hadn't even finished his sentence before Vin was out the door and headed towards the interrogation rooms.

The others ran after Tanner through the crowded hallway. One look at the distraught man had people parting in their path like a hot knife slices through butter.

Horatio and the others managed to catch up with Vin just as he reached the room and flung open the door. Immediately, all noise stopped. As if sensing his presence, six men turned as one to face him.

"Chris?" Vin was breathing raggedly and Horatio was absolutely positive that human eyes weren't meant to be opened that wide. Protectively grouping around the shaking man, the CSIs wondered what these men wanted with Vin. If they were going to try to harm him, all six would have to deal with them first.

"Vin."The leader, a thin blonde man dressed in midnight black, spoke quietly and the others all fell in behind, waiting almost without breathing.

Trembling, the slim sharpshooter ghosted his way over to the motley group before him. In the total silence of the room, his harsh breathing was the only sound that pierced the quiet. Horatio worriedly noticed that Vin's whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

Vin finally stood in front of the man in black and reached out a trembling hand. Chris stood still, fighting the impulse to get Vin back where he belonged, among his team, **now. ** He watched as Vin backed away and started shaking even harder, snatching his hand away at the last moment.

_Oh God, what if this wasn't real? What if it wasn't Chris? What if I really have lost mah mind? What if. . . . _

"Vin, look at me." The soft command broke through Vin's tumbling thoughts and slowly, he brought his eyes up to meet Chris. "Vin, I promise you this is real. None of us are dead. We weren't in the warehouse when it exploded. Nichols took us out to try and get some information from us about five minutes beforehand. None of us are dead."

Horatio, Calleigh, Wolfe, and Eric choked, astonished at what happened next. Vin, who always flinched at so much as a friendly slap on the back, who had never so much as initiated a _handshake,_ allowed himself to be drawn into a hug. An actual hug. Shoulders shaking with silent sobs, Vin buried his head in Chris' chest, allowing the man to pull him close and hold him tight. Mouths dropped as Vin's body sagged and the man in black gently lowered both of the to the ground, cradling the back of the lean sharpshooter's head in his hand. Completely ignoring what the hug might look like to anyone else, Buck, Ezra, JD, Nathan, and Josiah kneeled around the two and added their strength to the embrace.

"You're not alone, brother. We have you." Josiah soothed the shaken young man, repeating the phrase like a mantra. "We have you, brother. We have you."

Silently, Horatio ushered his shocked team and security personnel from the room, giving the new arrivals and Vin some privacy for their reunion. 

"God, Chris. I'se thought all of yah was dead!" Vin's voice was raspy and muffled from being pressed into Chris's chest. "They wouldn't let me go in ta get ya. I tried, but they'se wouldn't let me." His voice broke on the last part.

"Junior, we weren't in the warehouse." Buck tried to sooth the agitated sharpshooter, stroking his trembling back. "We're all fine. Not even a broken bone among the lot of us."

All seven just stood there for a good ten minutes, letting Vin reassure himself that _they_ were all there and reassuring themselves that _Vin_ was still there. Over it all, Josiah's mantra soothed their frazzled nerves and calmed Vin's shaking.

Getting his thoughts under control, Vin finally loosened his death grip on Chris and moved to the table. He sat on the edge as close to Chris as he could manage without actually sitting on his lap, unwilling to be separated.

//Cowboy?// Vin 'sent' to Chris.

//Yeah Pard?// He smiled at the golden glow swirling gently around his mind. He'd missed his warm fuzzies.

//There anyway we kin go now? Don't really fancy tryin' ta 'splain everthin ta tha team upstairs, when e'en I don't know what rightly happened.//

//I think we can manage that. I don't want to mess with any damn CSIs right now either, and I'm fairly sure neither do the others. CSIs make my head hurt.//

//Hey! Don't ya go 'n insult 'em just fer tha fun a it!// Vin paused for a moment before adding sneakily//It's only fun ta do tha' when it's tha feebs.//

//Got me there, Pard.//

"You guys got anything you want to share with the class?" Buck asked. He and the others were staring at Chris and Vin in amusement. "You're doing your freaky little silent talking deal," he pointed out evilly.

"Bucklin, I reckin if ya can't hear me 'n Chris talkin', ya'd best git yer ears checked."

"Well Hell, Junior, I ain't _that _old!"

Chris stopped the playful teasing. "We're leaving. We'll come back in the morning to deal with any loose ends and take care of getting Vin back where he belongs."

At this, Vin ducked his head. "Ah'll take care a tha' last part. Tha folks tha set this up fer me ain't gonna let anybody move me anywhere 'less I tell 'em it's OK." He paused and added softly. "Tha Capt'n is real protective a his cubs."

Still refusing to separate himself from his team, Vin started walking towards the parking lot, leaving the others to wonder who exactly "The Capt'n" was.

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Dr. Alexx Wood was walking to the morgue when she saw Vin Tanner. Not an unusual occurrence, but this time, her head swung around and her jaw hit the floor as she registered the full picture.

He was walking with a group of seven men. Not only was he walking_with _them, which was unusual in itself considering the people in Miami Dade had finally just accepted that Vin would always walk a few steps behind a group, but he was right in the middle. There couldn't be more than a few centimeters of clear space between him and a slim blond dressed in solid black. The other five were crowded around him, as though they were afraid he would suddenly disappear.

So intent was she on watching this strange phenomenon, Alexx didn't see the clear glass wall in front of her. To the amusement of the technicians inside, she walked straight into it and appeared to bounce off.

"You O.K, Doc?" Oh God, her sweet assistant had seen the ungraceful crash.

"I'm fine." Vowing to listen to the gossip next week, she continued down to the basement, her head at almost a 180 degree turn.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note:

Wow…. I absolutely cannot believe it took me this long to post this. I've had it written since 2007, but real life caught up and everything just kind of spun out of control. First off, thanks to MOG for letting everyone play around in her AU. Second, anything you recognize isn't mine.

Last, but certainly not least, a HUGE UBER-BELATED THANK YOU to retirw and pookwana for being the ones to beta this for me. Any mistakes are mine, not theirs.

**Finding Family Chapter Three**

Team Seven stood in the Miami Dade parking lot in front of the rental van from the airport. Vin looked anxiously from person to person. "We're stayin' together tanight?" His attempts to hide the nervousness in his voice failed miserably.

"Mr. Tanner, if it not too much trouble, would your domicile contain us all? I do believe we have sleeping bags in our packs." Astute as always, Ezra had realized that Vin wanted his team on what he would consider 'his' territory. _Surely one night of discomfort is worth the peace of mind Vin needs right now. _

"Y'all grabbed yer hazard bags?" The team had taken to keeping a small bag with a set of clothes, a sleeping bag, and as much instant coffee as they could carry at the office in case they got called out suddenly. They'd come in handy several times before.

Ezra paused for a moment, appearing to consider what he was going to say. "We were all in a quite 'ungentlemanly' rush to get to the airport."

"I'll second that," Buck snorted, a grin pulling at his lips. "Chris nearly ran over a couple of little ol' ladies that were taking to long to cross the street!"

Vin glanced at the ladies man for a moment, too out of it to appreciate the joke, before he ducked his head.

"I'll warn y'all right now, my 'partment ain't much. Hell, it's barely fit ta be called livable, but it'll fit all 'a us for the night."

"Then we stay there, Cowboy." Chris had also seen Vin's need to have them all in one place, and, even if Vin hadn't offered, Chris had absolutely no intention of letting Vin out of his sight for a while.

The seven of them piled in the van. Josiah drove and Chris gave up his shotgun seat when Vin still hadn't moved more than an inch from his side and didn't show any signs of changing that soon.

The ride was short as Vin directed Josiah to an old apartment building in what everyone agreed was Miami's version of Purgatorio. When they walked in the door of the lobby, Vin didn't even bother with the elevator, just headed straight to the stairs and everyone followed.

"Mr. Tanner," Ezra said as the door to Vin's apartment opened. "I am currently finding myself on the lookout for low flying swine. I do believe I like your apartment at home better."

Vin's 'apartment' was comprised of one small kitchen/living room, and another room off the side. The only furniture in the entire apartment was a small twin bed, a cheap wooden dresser, a ratty old sofa, and, of course, a gun safe.

"I told yah it ain't," Vin broke off quickly and everyone turned to look at him. He had abruptly turned a pasty white color and was clutching the wall to keep upright. "Oh shit," he got out before dry heaving painfully as Chris supported him and Nathan rubbed circles on his back.

"What's going on, cowboy?" Chris's voice was sharp when Vin stood up again.

"I don't suppose ya'd believe it was jist a dizzy spell?"

"Not with those dry heaves," Nathan interrupted dryly. "That wasn't a normal dizzy spell."

The thin sharpshooter looked at him for a moment and sighed. "Damn it. Yer gonna go 'n git all papa bear on me when I tell ya, ain't ya?"

Nathan just looked at him. There was silence for a moment before Vin sighed.

"Kin we at least git inside first?"

"As soon as we get inside, you're letting me do a full exam." There was no mistaking the iron hard tone in Nathan's voice.

The solemn procession filed into Vin's living room and managed to find seats around the ratty sofa. Nathan was grabbing the med kit from his bag as everyone settled in and Vin still refused to move from Chris's side.

"Vin, why don't you go ahead and take off your shirts while I get my stuff together?"

Surprising everyone, Vin did as he was told without comment and began unbuttoning his shirts. Chris began to get apprehensive after the third shirt; his friend only wore baggy clothes when he wanted to hide something.

"Damn Vin!" JD blurted at the fifth layer, "How many shirts do you have on?"

Vin looked down uncomfortably. "This is tha last."

When the shirts were finally off, Chris dug his fingernails in his palms. Buck put an arm around JD and Nathan closed his eyes as the physical proof of the hell his friend had been in became apparent. Thin didn't even begin to cover the way Vin looked. Every rib stuck out and his myriad scars contrasted starkly with the too pale skin.

"Vin," Nathan struggled to keep his voice level. "How much do you weigh right now?"

The sharpshooter had folded into himself, unconsciously moving closer to Chris. "Last month I weight 'round 110 pounds."

"And now?" Nathan prompted gently.

"I reckin' I weigh 'bout 95 give 'er take a few pounds."

Nathan sucked in a breath. For his height, Vin needed to weigh between 130 and 170 pounds. Swallowing, he continued questioning; knowing Vin wouldn't volunteer any information, but now was probably the only time he would get straight answers. "How much are able to eat?"

"I'se ain't been able ta keep nothin's solid down fer least a month." Nathan paled. "An old, um, friend, of mine from the Army sent somethin' the docs used ta give us when we came back from a mission."

Nathan closed his eyes, fighting down the horror he felt at Vin's state. "Sleep?" He finally managed to get out.

Vin looked down and mumbled something.

"Vin?" Chris prompted, nudging him to speak up.

"I'se only been sleepin' 'bout an hour a night 'fore the nightmares come."

"Damn it, Tanner!" Nathan exploded. "Do you realize how dangerous that is?! There is a _reason _agents are supposed to be in good health, and there's _no _way in hell anybody knows how little you actually weigh! You could have been killed!"

"I reckin' so." Something in Vin's voice halted Nathan in his tracks.

"What do you mean 'you reckon so'?" His voice was sharper than he had intended it to be.

Vin turned his full attention to Nathan and let what few guards he had left down. The sheer agony in his eyes staggered the group. "I'se thought y'all were dead! I had ta go 'n identify yer guns because yer bodies were to badly charred to be identified!" His voice broke. "All I could smell was burnin' flesh. It's still all I kin smell now! I wasn't gonna dishonor all that ya did by eatin' a bullet, but I jist," he trailed off, willing them to understand, "Jist didn't care anymore." He looked at Chris, "Reckin it was kinda like when ya lost yer family, cowboy. It ain't livin' without 'em."

Buck came forward, unashamed of his tears and swept Vin up into a bear hug. He was shocked at how frail the Texan was. "Junior, we're all right here, and ain't moving for a long time."

Nauseous

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At six o'clock, JD got on his cell phone and ordered Chinese when it became apparent no one had any desire to do a grocery run. Nathan happily noticed that JD had asked for plain white rice instead of fried, and the food was suspiciously plain and semi-healthy compared to the usual order at the seven's gatherings.

While Team Seven waited, they didn't talk about anything serious, just caught Vin up on what was going on in Denver. Lisa down in PR had finally had her baby and the Johnson case had been wrapped up by Kelly's team.

In the car ride over, Vin had asked if the question part could wait until they got home to Chris's ranch. Six ears trained to search for every clue with the least amount of information gleefully noted that Vin had referred to the ranch as home.

Finally, the food came and the delivery boy was paid a large tip after he was greeted at the door by six guns and a pair of blue eyes watching warily from the couch in the center of the room. Nathan kept a worried eye on Tanner as he ate dinner.

An hour later, Nathan approached the subject. "Vin, you full?"

"Yeah." He eyed Nathan carefully.

"Tanner, all you ate was a couple bites of rice and a piece of steamed broccoli," Chris pointed out. Apparently, Nathan hadn't been the only one on the lookout for the slim Texan.

"More 'n I been able ta keep down fer a month." The voice was soft and wary as he pointed this out.

"God Vin," Nathan's eyes pleaded with him to understand. "I don't want to do this, but I have to put you on a drip. You're over thirty five pound underweight!"

"No!" Vin scrambled back, accidentally moving right into Chris's chest. "No needles! I ain't doin' it again! No this time. Never, never again," he vowed frantically, trying to get out of Chris's gentle grasp.

//Cowboy, you have to calm down! No one's going to force you to do anything.//

The trembling eased a bit. //Ya promise?//

"I promise." Chris said it out loud, making sure the others heard. "No one will make you do anything you don't want to."

Blue eyes locked with green. "It happent a long time ago, cowboy."

"Junior, you ain't got nothing to be ashamed of," Buck spoke, guessing the quiet sharpshooter was ashamed of his outburst. "If you don't want to explain, you don't have to."

"Y'all need ta know. Nate 'specially. It has ta do wit' tha reason I hate IVs when I'm in tha damn hospital." He paused. "I kin usually handle it, but… " The voice trailed off, but he didn't need to continue.

"But not when you are so worn down?" Ezra finished for him, leaving off his usual grandiose vocabulary. Vin nodded.

The frantic struggles had finally ceased, but the Texan refused to move from Chris's grasp.

Vin took a deep breath before he began speaking with his head bowed. "It happent right after a really bad mission. It was real quite like; we weren't never there." Covert Ops. The words he didn't say echoed noisily in the still room. "When we'se got back from…tha place…, I weight jist over 100 pounds 'n tha docs wanted me on a drip, but they'se didn't have all tha reports from tha mission." Vin looked up suddenly, his eyes wide and full of pain. "I tolt 'em no, Chris! I tolt 'em no, but they didn't listen," his eyes pleaded with Chris to believe him.

"Hey Pard, we know you told them. It's OK," Chris soothed, turning Vin around to face him and pulling the trembling man into a loose hug. Vin didn't fight it, and rested his forehead on Chris's shoulder

"They'se 'termined ta put in tha drip, sa they jist ignored all a' us when we told 'em tha we'd sign any damn forms they needed, jist no IV." He gulped. "When I said no, they tied me down. I fought 'em, but there was too many of 'em, Chris! The restraints were big, 'n leather, 'n wouldn't let me move, 'n"

//Pard, you aren't there anymore, you hear me? Everything's O.K.// Chris soothed his friend, his heart hurting for what he suspected had happened on that mission.

"On tha mission, tha one tha docs didn't know 'bout, we'se been… Well, you kin prob'ly guess what happened… At night, they kept all 'a us tied down, jist like they'se did in tha hospital. Ever since, I'se been mighty afraid a IVs, specially without one a y'all there wit me," Vin revealed quietly.

Cold fury burned in Ezra's heart. He didn't care how long it took; once everything was calmer, he would find those doctors and make them pay. And from the raw looks on the other's faces as Vin hid his head in Chris's shoulder, he wouldn't be short of help.

Nathan's suspiciously misty eyes were devastated. If there was any other way, he'd take it, but Vin _needed _that drip. There was a good chance severe organ damage could occur if Vin didn't gain some of his lost weight back in the next few days.

"Vin?" JD's quiet voice was a surprise.

"Yeah, JD?" Vin still didn't move from his position in Chris's arms.

"You won't be alone this time." The softly uttered sentiment was spoken with absolute and utter conviction. "Please Vin, I know you're scared, but I'm scared too. You're family, and I don't want to…to lose you. My mom was as skinny as you are when she died. The," he took a breath to calm himself. "The doctors said that if she'd just had a little more weight, a little more strength, she might have made it." At this, JD's voice broke. "Please don't leave me, Vin."

Vin got up like a big cat, and moved silently to envelop JD in a bear hug. He looked over at Nathan. "Do I _need _tha drip?"

Nathan wanted nothing more than to be able to tell Vin that no, he didn't need the drip, but he forced himself to nod shakily. It wasn't just a precaution to put him on a drip, it was the only thing that would work now.

Vin lowered his head onto the top of JD's forehead before he spoke quietly. "I'll do it."

For the next few hours, everyone sat in the living room and talked quietly while Vin was on the drip. No one said a word when Vin refused to let go of Chris's hand even when he went to go get a cup of coffee. Vin simply picked up the bag of fluids and followed Chris.

When the drip was finally done, Team Seven laid out their sleeping bags and tried to rest.

* * *

Chris woke up with a gasp as something moved nearby, his hand automatically reaching for where his gun should be. Long hair lying on his arm halted his hand in its tracks. Vin was curled up against him, arms wrapped around himself and head buried in Chris's chest. _Aw hell, cowboy. _He quietly stroked Vin's back and got both of them moved into a more comfortable position. The Texan's head ended up tucked under Chris's chin and the blonde didn't move when Vin wrapped his arms around him as silent sobs rocked his body. His heart broke as Vin unconsciously burrowed deeper into him, shaking so hard he was almost vibrating.

Instinctively clutching the slim man closer to him, Chris gently rocked his friend until the shaking lessened and he eventually fell asleep.

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Buck woke up early the next morning, surprised he wasn't smelling the battery acid Vin passed off as coffee. He turned over to wake up Chris and pulled short. He and Vin were wrapped around one another, and even in his sleep, Chris was unconsciously rubbing Vin's trembling back. The so-called "bad-ass" team leader's cheek was resting on Vin's hair and Buck could see Vin's face buried into Chris's shoulder. _No way in hell am I waking those two up, _he thought, smiling happily at how peaceful his friends looked at that moment.

Movement registered in the corner of his eye, and he turned slightly to see Josiah, Nathan, JD, and Ezra squeezed onto the ratty couch, drinking coffee and watching Vin and Chris sleep. When Josiah saw he was awake, he motioned over to a pile of sleeping bags that had been laid out against the wall to resemble a chair of sorts. Quietly, Buck grabbed the waiting coffee and slipped into the chair to watch his friends.

Nathan's voice was quiet when he finally spoke. "Vin has been having nightmares on and off through out the night, so don't be surprised if Vin seems to be a little closer than usual. He'll probably need to reassure himself we're all still alive."

"Even if he needs a god damn group hug in the middle of the street, he'll get it." Buck's voice dared anyone to contradict him.

"Why are they sleeping so late? Usually they're the first ones up." JD was worried about Chris and Vin. The alert sharpshooter would normally be awake at even the sounds of a blanket shifting, somebody talking should have had the effect of a bullhorn on him.

Josiah sighed and put a fatherly arm around the boy. "Vin's been having nightmares almost every night for the past four months, and God knows Chris ain't been much better."

That sobered them for a moment. Nathan had actually resorted to drugging Chris's coffee to get him to rest.

"This is probably the closest either of them has had to a real nights sleep since the night before that bust."

They all fell silent as Vin shifted and started shaking violently in his sleep, caught tight in the throes of another nightmare. The five men watched as Chris pulled Vin closer to him and started rocking him gently, letting the lean sharpshooter burrow his head further into his chest and hold onto him in a death grip.

Thirty minutes later, when Chris and Vin finally woke up, no one said a word about the unusual sleeping arrangements. An unspoken decision among the others agreed that they would all be staying at Chris's when they got back to Denver. Family stays close when one of them is in trouble.

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As they had expected, Horatio, Eric, Calleigh, and Wolfe were all waiting in the office when Team Seven walked in the door.

"Lt. Caine."

"Agent Larabee."

The two leaders stood there for a few moments, neither one breaking eye contact. Finally, Horatio looked down. Realizing what was going on, Vin waited until Horatio broke eye contact before stepping forward.

"Lt. Caine, this is mah team." Vin smiled widely, still overwhelmed from finding out everyone was alive. "Y'all, this is Lt. Horatio Caine, Eric Delko, Ryan Wolfe, 'n tha pretty one is Calleigh Duquesne." Instinctively, Vin had introduced the others first to give his team the advantage in knowledge without even realizing it. Stepping back, he continued the introductions. "The one wit' tha mustache is Buck Wilmington, tha one in tha suit's Ezra Standish, tha short one," Vin ignored the small squeak of protest, "is JD Dunne, tha two standin' in tha back are Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson, 'n finally, the one tha's scowlin 'n dressed 'n black is Chris Larabee."

Chris stepped forward, his eyes glittering coldly, "Lieutenant Caine, Agent Tanner is being permanently transferred back to Denver."

"The paperwork has already been started."

Chris blinked in surprise and Lt. Caine smiled softly. "Detective Casey was kind enough to stop by last night and fill us in on the basics."

"Detective Casey?" Chris growled.

"Detective Casey's brother, Agent Justin Casey, was visiting yesterday and he saw Agent Tanner in the shooting range. He told his brother generally what was going on and got the first available plane to Denver."

"I'll have ta thank 'im," Vin said softly. "He did a good job lettin' you guys know instead of jist comin' up 'n tellin me first. I probly would 'a decked 'im 'n run."

Horatio changed the subject, sensing that it wasn't a comfortable one. "All the paperwork needs is Agent Tanner and yourselfs signatures."

Josiah stepped forward. "Thank you for your foresight. As you can imagine, we all want to go home right about now."

Horatio nodded as Chris and Vin stepped forward to sign the papers.

"Tanner, you're free to go. You'll need to be back here for the Weeks case, but it probably won't be for over a month."

As all this was happening, the team from Miami surreptitiously watched Vin; they'd never seen this side of him before. The lean man was right in the middle of the odd group of seven. Not only that, three of the agents were standing behind him. Vin _never _let anyone stand behind him. It was one of the unspoken rules about Tanner that everyone had learned, and learned quickly. No one walked behind him. No one came close to him. No one crowded him. And most importantly of all, no one touched him. These seven men had just broken everyone of those rules. Dear Lord, if Tanner and Larabee got any closer, they'd be standing on top of each other!

"Do you need any help finding a flight, Agent Larabee?"

"No. Thank you, but we found one last night. Actually," Chris looked at his watch, "we should probably be heading to the airport about now since we have to check in our weapons."

Ezra nodded. "I would have to agree. The airport security in Denver is used to the amount of weaponry we generally secure on our persons, however, I doubt that the Miami airport will be as accommodating."

After a few more moments of well-wishing, Team Seven was underway to the airport.

* * *

**Miami- Dade Airport Security**

Officer Kane looked at the seven men on front of him and gulped silently. Between the group, they could supply an army in a third world country with the guns hidden somewhere on their bodies.

So far, everyone but a thin, lean man with long hair hanging down to his shoulders had laid their various guns on the counter. Each man had had a minimum of three weapons. God, even the _kid, _Dunne, had that many!

"Vin?" The leader, a tall, whip cord lean man, nudged the seventh member.

//You OK?// Chris prompted when Tanner still hadn't moved.

//I'se carryin' more guns then even_ y'all_ are used ta, not ta mention tha officer behind tha counter.//

Now Chris knew why Vin had been so hesitant. The lean sharpshooter was forever afraid of causing a scene, mortified at the attention of anyone but his team members.

//He won't say anything.// Chris promised with a slight growl and a warning glare to Kane.

Silently, Vin acquiesced and started placing his weaponry on the surface. Two Colts, a Glock, a Sig Sauer, and three knives were laid out in less than a minute. No one could figure out where the third Colt and the last two knives came from though.

"Damn Junior!" Buck's startled statement seemed to sum up the feelings of everyone present.

Vin ducked his head and mumbled something.

"Kid, only Chris can hear you when you don't talk," Buck said softly, trying to get the younger man to speak louder.

Vin looked up and locked eyes with his friends. "Y'all weren't there ta watch mah back."

The quiet statement sobered the group, awed at the amount of trust Vin had given them. The Texan had a powerful streak of independence in him. To willingly allow himself to trust in them to keep him safe was something even they didn't know they'd earned. Granted, the team knew he'd given Chris the privilege of protecting him when he was vulnerable, but to have him actually verbalize that _they _had earned that trust was something they thought they would never hear.

//Pard, we have your back now.//

//I know.//

Turning their backs on the terrified Officer Kane, Team Seven strode to the terminal, people scattering before the seven men who had unconsciously formed the familiar flying arrow.

**Important!!!**

**I still haven't decided if I'm going to write another chapter for this. There's a few ideas floating around in my head, but I'm not sure I want to add anything else. However, that's dependent on reviews. . . I love them and the more I get, the more likely it is for me to write more. ****Also, since I haven't written anything else yet, if you have a plot bunny that you want to come next, let me know and it may just find its way into the story. (Rest assured, credit will be given.)**

**Happy Writing! (And Reviewing!!!)**

**LawsOfChaos**


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